


nine point eight

by Yuesya



Category: Naruto
Genre: AU is AU, Age Discrepancies, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Original Character(s), SI-Izumi, Self-Insert, Timeline What Timeline, Uchiha!OC, please ignore, timeline discrepancies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-04 12:25:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10990902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuesya/pseuds/Yuesya
Summary: Uchiha Itachi chose his village over his clan, steeled his heart and chose peace over his own blood. Izumi did not. (By the natural order of things, one day a young girl would willingly lay down her life for her love, and along with it, the lives of all her kinsmen. But I was not that girl; I was not that Izumi.) [SI/OC, Uchiha!OC, AU]





	1. dreamer, dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on FFN. SI/OC fic ~~because I'm trash.~~

.

There is a truth that never changes and that truth is this:

Doing the right thing is hard. It's even harder to find the right thing to do. But what's harder still is striving do the right thing without even knowing for certain if what you're doing is right or not. Because in the end, what's "right" for you isn't necessarily "right" for me; what's "right" for one person might not be "right" for another, so in the end there's no real way of making everyone happy aside from compromising, and, let's face it–

No one is ever really happy making compromises.

Because the fact of the matter is, to compromise is to make concessions. Concessions that, depending on the situation, may or may not prove to be a bitter pill to swallow.

(Pick your poison, as they say.)

When Uchiha Hazuki fell in love with Kobayashi Ichiru, the chuunin gave up her status as a clan kunoichi to marry the handsome young jounin. She gave up her Uchiha name for the sake of love, the day she put her foot down and rejected the marriage arranged for her at birth, resulting in a tumultuous, heated argument that culminated in her fierce declaration that she would sooner slit her own throat here and now than marry the distant cousin who was a decade her senior.

Her loyalty forever and would always remain in the hands of the clan, she said. Her loyalty, but not her love life.

Hazuki had always been rather rebellious and outspoken as a teenager, borderline inappropriately so for an Uchiha. Her mother didn't think too much of it, calling it a phase, this teenage rebellion, and often calmed her traditionalist husband's fraying temper with soothing words of _she's just a child_ and _not worth getting worked up over._

Well. So much for 'just a phase.'

The young woman had desired love, had desired it so strongly that she actively chose to pursue love rather than quietly acquiesce to her family and her clan's wishes. It was not unheard of for Uchiha clansmen to marry outside of the clan, but for them to do as Uchiha Hazuki had done, to so brazenly disregard her original marriage contract done, it was–

It wasn't so surprising, then, that Uchiha Hazuki became simply Hazuki, before she took on the name Kobayashi Hazuki. Perhaps the situation wouldn't have gone so far as to officially strip her of her clan's name if her marriage contract had been of less importance, perhaps there would've been more technicalities involved if Hazuki had activated her clan's bloodline further than the single tomoe she did. As it was, though, Hazuki moved to a corner of the Uchiha district with her jounin husband, no longer officially a Uchiha kunoichi herself but an Uchiha all the same in her bittersweet victory. Her children would still be Uchiha, given her bloodline, but she herself would never be an Uchiha the same way again.

The results from the debacle of Hazuki's marriage was something that no one was completely satisfied over, and the whispers that followed Hazuki in the initial months following her marriage to Kobayashi Ichiru were full of comments like _ungrateful girl_ and for shame and _her poor parents, raising a child like that._

But Hazuki loved Ichiru and Ichiru loved Hazuki, so even though things were rough and rocky in the beginning, they managed to get by, time smoothing over the edges and their relations with the rest of Hazuki's family.

Because family is family; blood runs thicker than water. Her parents, angry as they had been at the time of her marriage, still loved and cared for their daughter at the end of the day, regardless of the bickering and arguments. And for all that the clan had been genuinely upset at Hazuki's brazen, irreverent, reckless actions, for all that the clan had deemed her punishment necessary, Hazuki was still a beloved daughter of the clan. That she no longer bore the Uchiha name on official documents had no bearing on the fact that Uchiha blood still ran in her veins.

The point of this entire spiel being:

It's hard to say whether Hazuki did the right thing or not, breaking her marriage contract the way she did. It took years before her parents were able to fix the relations of their family's branch with the other branch that the marriage contract had been arranged with, and it would not be entirely inaccurate to say that Hazuki's selfishness was a significant burden on her branch of the family after she departed for love. But at the same time, to take her future into her own hands as she had, to be brave enough to openly pursue love in a clan that emphasized tradition and obedience as strongly as the Uchiha did…

It takes a certain amount of courage to do something like that, I think. And Hazuki did indeed find her happiness with Kobayashi Ichiru, so it's all worked out well anyways.

… I suppose you can see this story as one of the many examples where it's hard to determine and do what's "right." You can also see it as the reason why my name is not Kobayashi Izumi and instead Uchiha Izumi.

Sounds familiar, maybe?

_Uchiha_ Izumi.

Uchiha _Izumi._

I hadn't even spared a thought in that particular direction until I was roughly four years old and had finally stopped blinking in and out of awareness in an alarmingly disconcerting manner. Patches of memories from whole months would seemingly disappear from my mind for no good reason and instead be replaced by eclectic visions of strange metal buildings and box-like vehicles on wheels and foreign sounds ringing in my ears. Of course, now I know them to be _skyscrapers_ and _cars_ and _Korean,_ but you'll excuse me if I believe that I had a very good reason to be highly distressed at the time.

As a direct result of that, I had been easily prone to bursting into tears or crying at random both as an infant and in my early months as a toddler… or so I've been told. To be quite honest, I don't exactly remember the crying all that well –only the sheer _panic,_ and inevitable memory-blackout afterwards, which only gave rise to _more_ panic, and–

And I don't even remember the exact _details_ of dying, of how I actually died, which is… probably for the best. Hooray for small mercies, and all that, or else I would've been a _lot_ more messed up in the head than I already was. Probably.

Reincarnation is said to be a gift.

… Now, I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but I can't help but wonder what it means to be reincarnated into a world of glorified murderers and celebrated assassins. Maybe I'm being a little too harsh with it, but it _is_ true, isn't it?

This world, the Naruto-verse.

When I'd first realized what sort of world I had been re-born into, my first reaction had been denial. Being reborn in a different world after dying like those harem protagonists from trashy light novels was already insane; being reborn in a _fictional universe_ was a different level of insanity altogether.

(… Then again, putting things into perspective… being reborn with your memories intact is pretty insane already. So what's another level of insanity on top of that?)

It didn't occur to me for the longest time that I was _the_ Uchiha Izumi, even after I'd figured out that I had somehow been reborn in the Naruto-verse, crazy enough as it sounded. Why would it? For starters, the very fact that this was a _ninja_ world, militaristic and ruthless at its very core despite the themes of friendship and never-give-up in the Naruto storyline, was enough to send me into a mindless, dizzying panic.

Prior to my death, I hadn't been anyone _special._ I worked, I ate, I hung out with friends, I slept. Simple and monotonous, maybe, but there was a certain charm to it. It was a good life, fairly happy and content if not perfect, which was all I'd ever even really wanted. This whole being thrown headfirst into a fictional-not fictional world with the very real, very likely possibility of having to go out and _fight?_

_Fight? Who, me?_

_You've got to be joking._

… I wasn't too clear on the precise details of the story, faded as it was in my mind and a good several years since I'd last cracked open any of the _Naruto_ books, but I knew enough of the general plot to recognize the name _Uchiha_ as that clan of pinwheel-eyed fighters. And by the time it dawned on me that I had been born into a family of assassins who took _pride_ in fighting and killing other people, I realized that the toy knives I'd been given to play with by my parents were _actual fucking knives_ and not toys.

My parents, both of whom were ninjas.

Kobayashi Ichiru and former-Uchiha now-Kobayashi Hazuki.

… What kind of parents gave their toddler kids steel knives to play with?!

(I would come to discover several years later that it was my distinctly un-childlike behavior that had aroused their suspicions at the time, that the whole 'let's see how our daughter fares with knives' thing was actually carefully monitored and controlled under their supervision. Jumbled as my mind had been at the time, I hadn't really understood the magnitude of what it had meant to play with the 'strange shiny toys' that my parents pressed into my hands and curled my fingers around… and by the time I'd finally recognized the shiny toys as _kunai_ and _shuriken_ it was a bit too late for second thoughts on the matter.)

All apprehensions about fighting, about the prospect of _killing_ aside… I… don't deny that there was a part of me that was highly curious about these esoteric shinobi arts. Dangerous in nature and deadly as they were, ninjas were also _cool,_ which… is the stupidest reason to sign up for the shinobi life if there ever was one. But my mind vaguely recalled superhuman feats of spitting dragon flames and summoning lightning, and if there is one vice that I've always had trouble reigning in, it is and had always been:

Curiosity.

_… Maybe I can try to learn just a little bit? Just a tiny bit? I mean, genin from the series usually just run around the village doing random chores and errands… Naruto's team and the Wave mission aside, but he's the protagonist; crazy things always happen to the protagonist…_

Being reborn into a child's body didn't necessarily mean that I mentally regressed to the level of a child, but it _did_ mean that I was a heck of a whole lot more susceptible to childish whims and easily distracted, and once something caught my interest, it was damn _hard_ to shift my focus onto something else. And unfortunately, the newness and curiosity I held towards _shinobi_ was something that was very hard for my child-self to turn away from.

Both of my parents being ninjas who actively encouraged the 'unmistakable' signs of what they saw to be a budding mini-ninja in the works was not exactly helping things any.

… But that's all a little neither here nor there. The brief inner struggle I had over curbing my curiosity towards anything and everything ninja-related in favor of securing a civilian future promptly died a cruel, brutal death the day I saw Uchiha Itachi.

Yes, you heard me right.

Uchiha. Fucking. _Itachi._

…

So here's the thing: Back when I'd initially figured out that I'd been reborn in the Naruto-verse… first, I'd panicked. _What is this how is it even possible oh my god it's a village of murderers fuck I'm doomed I'm so doomed I don't want to die not again–_

Upon finally managing to calm down, I'd then set upon a very important task: Find out where the heck in the timeline I'd been born. It wasn't too hard to find out who the current Hokage was –our newly-instated Yondaime Hokage, Namikaze Minato, the Yellow Flash; the hero of the Iwa war front– and so that gave me a general idea of where I stood in the grand scheme of things. Older than the main cast in the Naruto storyline, but not so old that I had enough time to properly prepare before things went to hell in a handbasket.

The next step in the plan, then, was to keep an eye out for canon characters. At this point, I had finally progressed past the initial stage of believing this to be a fictional world –and even if this world was fake, to my current mind and body everything was as good as real, so why continue to dismiss everything as fake?– but given the very _fact_ that this was a "real world," then it only stood to reason that anything was possible. There was no guarantee that what was canon in the Naruto storyline I knew would also apply here: I myself was perfect evidence of that, wasn't I?

So, canon characters. See if they were different, see if they even _existed,_ and then start making more plans for the future from there.

… Given that I was barely five years old at this point in time, this was actually quite hard to accomplish. It wasn't as if I could wander around the village on my own, and both of my parents rarely left the Uchiha district unless it was for a mission. From the few fellow Uchiha clansmen I'd met so far, though, none of them rang any bells with what little I'd managed to remember from Kishimoto's manga…

_Maybe this is some sort of AU world of the canon Naruto-verse? … Where things aren't so bloody, maybe?_

'Uchiha' is a name that automatically brings up two things: Sharingan, and massacre. Quite understandably, the madness-inducing aspect to the Sharingan bloodline aside, the 'massacre' part of it was a serious cause for concern. Because I sure as hell _did not want to die again._ But maybe, maybe if this was some altered Naruto-world where Namikaze Minato was reigning Hokage, surely there was no need for such worry? Surely it was entirely possible for everything to be fine…

Surely…

…

This fragile hope lasted until the day my mother Hazuki took me to the Academy.

And no, it wasn't for the first day of class.

We weren't the only people heading towards the Academy. There were so many people who strode to the Academy with us –or us with them– on that bright, sunny day, warm and cloudless in all its perfection. So many fellow clansmen whom I didn't recognize, so many people.

"Kaa-san, where are we going?" I gently tugged on her sleeve, "Why are there so many of us?"

"We're heading to the Academy, Izumi-chan." A soft smile from the ebon-haired woman, pale-skinned and beautiful, graceful and deadly the way all Uchiha kunoichi are raised to be. "There's a very special event happening today that we're all very proud and happy for, so we've come to show our support."

_… Huh?_

Some of the confusion must've come across on my face, because the beautiful lady who was my mother simply laughed.

"Our Clan Head's son is graduating the Academy today at the top of his class, Izumi-chan. It's a wonderful occasion!"

There words themselves were innocent, innocuous. Something about it unsettled me nonetheless, though I couldn't quite pin it down at the time… and it wasn't until we'd finally reached the Academy, until we were seated on the wooden benches in a section along with all the rest of the Uchiha clansmen who came, that it finally, _finally_ occurred to me just what I was witnessing.

_"We would like to give a special mention to the Rookie of the Year, Uchiha Itachi. Despite his young age, his performance in class has always been nothing less than perfect, and his work ethic is most impressive amongst all students in his year. It was a pleasure to have him as a student and watch him grow. Graduating at seven years of age, I believe we will be able to expect great things from him in the future as a splendid shinobi of Konoha. Congratulations, Uchiha Itachi-kun."_

And I saw him, across a sea of proud parents and family friends, the boy who stood in front of all his classmates on the raised platform as the Rookie of the Year. Ebon-haired and pale-skinned just like any other Uchiha, only a mere seven young years of age, there was nothing about him that even remotely suggested…

… But no.

Uchiha Itachi. _Uchiha Itachi._

This was the man who singlehandedly ensured the downfall of the Uchiha Clan, who killed every last clansmen… save for his precious little brother.

…

What were the chances? What were the chances that this was a world where nothing would go wrong, that this _child_ would never have to grow up to choose between his village and his clan? Dare I think of betting on _chance_ when it came to something like this?

What were the chances?

_Seven years old, and already an Academy graduate. Didn't he have a meteoric rise through the shinobi ranks? Genin, chuunin, jounin, ANBU…_

_… S-class criminal…_

"Izumi-chan?"

_How can I stop this? What can I do? If he goes and kills off all the Uchiha again, I… I…_

_I DON'T WANT TO DIE._

"Izumi-chan, are you feeling alright? You're looking a little pale. Too much excitement for one day?"

"S-sorry, kaa-san." Barely aware of the words leaving my mouth, mechanically shaking my head. _Uchiha Itachi is here he exists what if he kills everyone again?_ "I-I'm fine."

_No I'm not fine to hell with being fine he's here what if he–_

_Just a child, nothing guaranteeing he'll be a mass-murderer–_

_But it's possible isn't it all the signs match: genius child, pacifist–_

_No, not the exact same world nothing says the story will turn out the same way–_

_But you can't say that for certain!_

_Maybe–_

_Maybe–_

…

"… I'm fine."

.

.

.

Hi.

Hi, my name is Uchiha Izumi. I'm not exactly familiar with this ninja business –in fact, I'm not familiar with any of this _at all;_ I don't really know anything about how to fight, how to kill, and if it were up to me, I'd really much rather just do my very best to stay away from anything that has any semblance to do with the Plot, but unfortunately–

Unfortunately, my name is Uchiha Izumi.

_Uchiha,_ as in the name of the clan massacred down to only one single child.

_Uchiha Izumi,_ as in the name of the girl Itachi was supposed to fall in love with, the first person he killed on the night he brutally slaughtered his own family. A minor throwaway character who was, in a likelihood, only created on an afterthought solely for the sake of satisfying Itachi's manga fans in one of the many spin-off light novels than to be of any importance whatsoever.

…

… I don't particularly _want_ to throw myself into life-or-death situations, I don't really want to learn how to kill–

_But I don't want to die, either._

I don't want to die. Not–

Okay.

Okay, okay. I… I know that death comes to all living creatures, that life and death is the way of the world. All living things die eventually; nothing is eternal.

One day, I will be ready to die, but… not now. Not yet. Not today.

And it's precisely because I've died once already, that, more than anything I know what I want and I–

_I want to live._

…

… In order to do that, it seems that there is no choice but to become a ninja, because I can't think of any other way to stand a snowball's chance in hell of surviving in this world. Not that becoming a ninja would somehow automatically, miraculously ensure that I would be able to survive, considering everything that the very act of becoming a ninja entailed, but–

But second chances don't come easily, and only a fool would waste a second chance to live again.

(I have no intentions of sitting around on my hands and waiting to die.)

.


	2. lucid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FFN.

.

So, it's one thing to decide that you will actively take matters into your own hands to survive the upcoming trials and tribulations in a new, hostile world. It's another thing entirely to put the details of this grand plan into action.

… The immediate days following my attendance at Uchiha Itachi's graduation ceremony went past in a blurry daze for me, my mind far too preoccupied by fear and unease and panic over what Uchiha Itachi's presence would mean for my future –or rather, lack thereof.

_After all, there is no future in death._

(Well… present circumstances here suggesting the contrary aside, of course, but… but I'm sure you'll understand if I tell you that I'm reluctant to put this to the test. For all that I find myself reborn into this not-so-fictional world as a living, breathing human being, this concept of rebirth is… something I'm unwilling to intentionally try out and test on myself.

No, this is not something I would take a gamble on.)

The decision to become a ninja…

In terms of blunt honesty and pragmatism, I highly doubt that I would ever become great, not at a profession like this. Not at such a dangerous profession that required such ease and skill in dealing with death, a profession that demanded such exacting standards with its high mortality rate. Not this. Furthermore, the very idea of violence and death itself, while not quite so _nauseatingly_ upsetting and wholly incomprehensible for me, it…

It's something I admit I'll admit to being rather uncomfortable with, and I don't think I'll ever become quite comfortable with it. Not that I'd have a _choice_ in the matter. But the idea of killing another person in cold blood, for reasons like _for money_ and _it's just a job,_ I don't think…

…

… I hesitate to say _wrong,_ because I no longer have the high-handed luxury of thinking that way, not anymore. This is no longer the world I remember, and so I absolutely _can't_ afford to get overly hung up on issues of _right_ versus _wrong,_ not if my ultimate goal is survival in the midst of this impending shit-storm.

It scares me sometimes, when I stop and think about it. Even though my parents smile and laugh with me, even if they show genuine affection and care, it does not change the fact that I can _see_ the knives they carry around naturally at all times on their person, I can _hear_ the casual way they just mention _eliminating_ the target on a mission or _removing_ any obstacles that interfere with their goal.

Because ninjas are killers, _Itachi_ is a killer –one of the best killers of them all, for all that he was supposedly a goddamned _pacifist–_ and so if I want even the slightest _chance_ of surviving _him_ as a child of the Uchiha blood, not to mention all the other dangers that lurked in every corner of this world… then my best bet would be to join the ranks of these killers myself.

The only power you can really rely upon is the power you hold in your own two hands, after all.

… Of course, I held no delusions of myself. I had no dreams of somehow one day becoming strong enough to go toe-to-toe with the likes of S-ranked ninjas; good heavens, _no,_ but…

But at the very least, surely it wouldn't be beyond my capabilities to learn some basic skills, right? It wouldn't be impossible to learn enough to defend myself to the point where I wouldn't be instant KO'd by the average ninja wandering around in the big wide world, and then I could run away and become a hermit somewhere…?

…

… It wouldn't be easy, of course; loyalty was emphasized something _fierce_ here. Even though I was 'first-generation removed blood,' given my decidedly non-Uchiha father, I had been hearing phrases like, 'grow up to be a strong member of the clan' and 'one day you'll do us proud' since before I could even walk –or could even really understand the words themselves, really. It wasn't even anything _conscious_ on their part; just something _natural_ for any adult clan member to say to a young, impressionable child.

Frightening, really.

And from what little I knew of those who deserted the village, renegades, _traitors_ –these 'missing-nin' would be _hunted_ by others of their village. That would definitely throw a wrench in the plan to run away. Of course, I can't really imagine that the Uchiha Clan would casually allow a healthy carrier of its bloodline to just up and disappear without a trace, either, but…

But the idea itself is a start, I suppose.

_I'll think of something feasible, eventually._

_… I have to._

Now, I have no doubt that there are far nobler reasons to become a ninja, to become _shinobi._ To protect one's family, to serve one's village… but _to survive_ is a damn good reason, too, in my humble opinion, if not exactly _noble._ But ninjas aren't really expected to be noble in the first place, right? No place for honor, and all that.

… And at least it's a much better reasoning than something along the lines of, 'because flashy ninja techniques seem interesting.'

Well, regardless.

So, at any rate, it's one thing to make the decision to take the path of blood and become a ninja for the sake of survival. The actual process itself of _becoming_ a ninja, however…

_"Hey, mom? Can you teach me all your ninja tricks?"_

_"Err, 'why the sudden interest,' you ask? Um… no real reason, really. I'm just kinda scared that Itachi-san –y'know, our seven-year old genius clan heir, the one that just graduated the Academy in record time a few days ago?– is going to murder us all for the sake of Konoha a decade or so in the future, so I'd like at least a teeeensy little chance to struggle against that if that happens."_

_"Eh? Am I feeling alright? Of course I am! … 'How do you know that?'"_

_Welll, funny thing, that. Y'see, I'm actually an adult woman from another world who died and got reborn as your daughter, and we had this popular manga series over there that seems suspiciously similar to this world, so…"_

…

My face scrunches up at the prospect of having _that_ conversation.

Yeah, no. Just… no.

I'm exaggerating things, of course, but just up and _asking_ out of the blue like that, without raising some kind of attention to me, for the sudden desire for _training_ if nothing else… I didn't want to get marked as _special._ How in the world would I be able to slip away unnoticed one day if I was?

This is Uchiha Izumi: A little girl, a child of the Uchiha Clan, the young four-year old daughter to sharp-tongued chuunin Kobayashi Hazuki and talented jounin Kobayashi Ichiru. Unassuming, unremarkable, if a bit bright and slightly precocious for her age. But the Uchiha Clan was predisposed to having genius kids, as were most other well-established ninja clans, so it was nothing _too_ outstanding or eye-catching. At least, I didn't think so.

… Time to mentally go over everything in my head about my behavior with a fine-toothed comb to see if I let slip somewhere that I didn't exactly have a toddler's mentality.

_Fuck._

Actually, in light of recent events and recent revelations… the innocuous 'games' my parents played with me were starting to take on an entirely different perspective.

Take a look:

Tossing and catching small pebbles in an alternating pattern on and between your fingertips? _Fine motor control and dexterity training._

Silly little dances to children's songs that had you bending your body this way and that in strange, contorted positions? _Flexibility and balance stretches._

Hide-and-seek tag both inside the house and out on the streets? Sometimes even with the other children, sudden games that could break out spontaneously without even a prior warning beforehand? _Situational awareness, and the beginnings of speed, stamina, and agility exercises._

… And this was _still_ discounting the ever so glaringly obvious 'Hey, let's hand our little kid a few knives to play with! It's not like she might accidentally cut herself and die or something, right?'

Righhht.

…

… Aside from feeling _colossally_ stupid over my inattention to something so obvious… that's ninja parenting at its finest for you, I guess. And in retrospect, maybe I was really over-thinking everything, this business of 'how do I go about telling my parents I want to be a ninja like you, please teach me how to be a ninja like you, I want to become a ninja like you.' Because if anything, it seemed suspiciously like they were _already_ raising me to follow in their footsteps in terms of my future career…?

Sneaky, sneaky ninja parents. Or maybe I was just a little too thick-skulled. Maybe, maybe being stuck in the body of a child had more of an impact on my thought processes than I originally suspected…

… Actually, let's not go there.

With great effort, I make a deliberate attempt to wrench myself away from that particular line of thought, not particularly wanting to start questioning my own mental state, which would undoubtedly raise even _more_ uncomfortable questions… questions that I most likely shouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole, for the sake of my own continued sanity.

And so instead, I give a slightly dubious look to the steel knife lying innocently in front of me on the ground. It's not the first time my parents have left random knives lying around dangerously in the house, not after I'd proven myself somewhat adept with the 'fancy knife-toy games'… although, I'm fairly certain that if I had been a _real_ four-year old kid, something like this is just _begging_ for an accident to happen.

Luckily for all parties involved, I'm not.

… Huh, I wonder how the canon Uchiha Izumi even _survived_ as a child in a careless household like this. Must've been a lucky little girl. Or… not so lucky, I guess, considering that she was killed by the man she loved.

(Stupid girl.

Stupid, _stupid_ girl.

You didn't even try to struggle, you didn't even try to live! _You let him kill you._ )

Uchiha Izumi.

 _… The thing with being Uchiha Izumi,_ I muse to myself, looking down at the reflection of the dark-eyed girl in the knife held by my soft, childish hands. The reflection of Uchiha Izumi. _My_ reflection. _The thing with being Uchiha Izumi… is that there's nothing really special about her._

Nothing special.

I mean, seriously, _think about it._

Aside from being offhandedly brought up in conversation as Itachi's ambiguous love interest, 'Uchiha Izumi' hadn't really played much of a role in the story at all, and it was only in the _side_ storyline of the light novel that she'd even been introduced as an actual character instead of briefly mentioned in passing.

… So on one hand, this was _great._ Itachi probably only knew of her existence in the first place because she _actively sought him out_ due to her crush on him, eventually leading to Itachi reciprocating her feelings somehow and falling in love with her. A love that he would prove by killing Izumi first out of everyone else when he massacred his entire clan. _However,_ if I was smart about it, I could just _avoid_ our esteemed clan heir like the plague and avert this particular problem entirely!

That's one item checked off the bucket list of problems to solve. I give myself a mental pat on the back.

On the other hand… this was not so great. Because if Izumi didn't have any particularly special attributes aside from being Itachi's unofficial girlfriend, this meant that, once I made the decision to _not_ associate myself with the potentially kin-murdering clan heir, this meant that I would be the same as any other cannon fodder in the clan, and would die anyways once Itachi started his killing spree.

 _If_ he started his killing spree.

… Though I certainly wasn't discounting the possibility here.

Because of course it's entirely possible that maybe things _will_ go around differently this time and I'm worrying my pretty little head off for nothing; maybe Itachi won't grow up to be the executioner of the Uchiha Clan and I have absolutely nothing to be concerned about. The Yondaime Hokage is still alive, isn't he? From what little I still recalled from Kishimoto's manga, the Yellow Flash had been portrayed as nothing if not a kind, strong, capable leader. Given that he is the one who's currently Hokage and not the aged, wizened Sandaime… I cannot discount the chance that the Uchiha Clan's relations with the village won't sour to the point of the Uchiha Clan planning a coup to overthrow the village leadership.

But I cannot discount the distinct possibility of everything going FUBAR, either.

And this… is precisely why I must be a ninja. Even if I won't make a very good one, at least I won't be _completely_ helpless, unable to do anything but wait and tremble in fear of impending doom.

I cast my gaze contemplatively down towards the knife in my hand again. The chubby hand of a young child, but chubby only because of the natural baby fat on young children.

I hadn't truly _noticed_ before, but now that I thought about it, wasn't it _unnatural_ for a four-year old kid to have the degree control I did over my body? The deft flicks of my fingertips, a small twist of my wrist, spinning the knife over the back of my finger –and then firmly catching it in my palm, without so much as a single scratch from an accidental cut?

Isn't it _weird?_

 _… Maybe it's something in the water they drink here._ I suppress a wry smile at the thought. In all likelihood, it might simply be that child development works differently in this world, this world with something called _chakra_ –although it's probably just as likely to be a result of my _unique mentality._

Whatever the case, it was an _advantage._

And I needed every advantage I could get my hands on.

… Itachi had already graduated the Academy. He was already a _genin._ I didn't need to _catch up_ to his level per se –I wasn't even sure if something like that was possible– but it _did_ mean that time was not on my side. Asking to be enrolled in the Academy at four years of age when the standard was five might raise a few eyebrows, but… but the alternative would be to wait another year, playing around with small exercises and clever tricks under the guise of games at home.

Another _year._

… Wouldn't most of the clan's attention be focused on the meteoric rise of their prized heir? So what if Uchiha Izumi happened to be a little smart, a little special –who would ever notice the small candle burning in the corner, when there was a bonfire blazing fast and bright in the center of the room?

"Uchiha Izumi," I whisper to the girl hiding inside the mirror of the knife blade. "You will learn how to be a ninja. And you will _live."_

I would.

I _would_ survive, or die trying.

(You can't survive if you're dead, after all. Not for a second time.)

.

.

.

"The Academy, Izumi-chan?"

I give a firm nod. To her credit, my mother doesn't look all too surprised –had I given away any of my thoughts these past few days?– and she only turns to look over her shoulder towards her husband, raven hair spilling over her shoulders in a soft, silken sheet from the twisting movement.

"What do you think, dear?" the beautiful woman asks, and the brown-haired man sitting on the couch blinks, before focusing on me.

"What brought this on, Izumi-chan?"

I fidget for a moment, eyes flicking towards the ground. _Because I don't want to die._ "B-Because… because I want to be a strong ninja like kaa-san and tou-san and protect the clan!"

The two adults exchange a _look,_ and I'm not quite sure what silent conversation passes between them. But eventually Ichiru gives a small, defeated sigh while Hazuki's lips quirk up in a satisfied smile, and then my mother turns back to me again.

"Of course, Izumi-chan." She pats me on the head. "You're fairly talented for your age, so if you're willing work hard, you might be able to graduate early, too! It's good to see that you're starting to take initiative."

"It doesn't matter if she graduates early or not," my father mumbles under his breath from the other side of the room. "Don't give her undue pressure, Hazuki."

Jounin he might be, but Ichiru still quailed under his wife's ire. Hazuki gave a distinctly offended little sniff in his direction, before turning leaning over and picking me up, swinging me so that she was holding me at her hip.

"Itachi-kun is Fugaku-sama's son," she says. "As Clan Heir, there are certain responsibilities that will fall upon his shoulders, and so he must work harder than any other clansmen in order to one day be capable of taking up those responsibilities and leading us. Our job, Izumi-chan, will simply be to stand by and help him, to support him in any way however we can. So there is no need to be ashamed if you can't reach Itachi's standards, okay?"

"… Okay?" I respond in mild confusion. While it was _nice_ that my ninja parents were trying to be considerate and all, I would have greatly preferred it if Uchiha Itachi were left out of the conversation entirely. Although… I guess for any Uchiha children entering the Academy, people would _automatically_ make comparisons to Itachi, consciously or not.

I suddenly find myself feeling a lot more affectionate towards my parents. It's nice, this sensation of having other people care about how you feel.

"Okay, kaa-san," I reach out and give the woman holding me a small hug. I know what the right words to say would be in a situation like this. "Thank you very much for your advice. I will work hard and make you and tou-san proud!"

Hazuki giggles, a lovely, tinkling sound. "I know you will, my lovely little Izumi-chan. Now, how about a hug for tou-san too, hmm?"

…

And so, this is how Uchiha Izumi is enrolled into the Konoha Academy at a tender young four years of age.

This is how it all starts.

(It's not a story.

It's my _life._ )

.


	3. expectations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FFN. Playing around a little with the chapter length here. :3

.

Typically, the standard age for children to become Academy students is somewhere within the five to six year range. To enter as young as four years old is a little unusual, especially in light of the tendency towards a larger gap of ability between children particularly at younger ages, but it's not something _unheard_ of. Certainly nothing as eye-catching as graduating within the short span of a single year, that's for sure.

… Of course, people might be surprised to hear of a four year old child entering the Academy, but it's not so much the genuine shock of _'This is impossible, how is this possible!?'_ as it is more of something along the lines of _'Hmm, I see. Entering early, eh? Rather ambitious here, aren't we?'_

In short: Hatake Kakashi might be hailed a genius for entering the Academy at four years old and graduating within the year, but he's not the only four year old child to have entered the Academy before, nor would he be the last. It's _uncommon,_ of course, but not quite as uncommon as you would think. There are always several children pulled into the Academy early from year to year for a variety of different circumstances. On the flip side, you don't exactly see several children graduating the Academy in only a single year with any sort of regularity.

The shock and awe generated by Uchiha Itachi's early graduation points more towards the impressive feat of completing the Academy curriculum within a single year than anything else, really.

It should go unsaid that we can't all be genii like that.

… And on second thought, that's probably a good thing. I mean, imagine all the monsters that would exist in this world, if every child was…

_Nope, nope, nopeee, not even going to get started on that–_

"Ready for your first day, Izumi?"

I blink, abruptly broken out of my thoughts by the sound of Ichiru's voice. The sound of my father's voice, warm and gentle. It's… comforting, and I can't help but latch onto it with a single-minded focus, tilting my head and automatically beaming up at him with a bright smile.

(It used to feel so _strange,_ smiling at these parents-who-weren't-really-my-parents in the beginning, but… but it comes a lot more smoothly to me nowadays, to muster up an easy smile for them.)

"Yes, tou-san!" I bob my head up and down through the motions of a childish nod, and the brown-haired man smiles back at me in return. It's a smile that's half-indulgent, half-wistful, and I can only guess at the thoughts that must be racing through his mind as he watches his four-almost-five year old daughter prepare for her first day at the Academy.

_I wonder how he feels, sending off his little girl to a school where she'll learn to be a cold-eyed killer?_

… Okay, okay, I'm being unfair here. That's an unfair judgment for me to make. Tou-san _is_ a ninja, just like kaa-san, so it's rather unlikely that either of them would find anything about this Academy arrangement out of place –and this is without even considering the fact that _I'm_ the one who took initiative several weeks back and asked to enter the Academy early in the first place, anyways, which makes this all a moot point. If there's anyone I have to blame for anything that happens from here on out… it's only me.

_I alone am responsible for my own actions; no matter what happens, I only have myself to hold accountable and answer to._

It's a rather daunting thought.

… Slightly terrifying, too, and I cannot help the way that my hands unconsciously fist themselves into the hem of my father's pants. Small palms, tiny fingers, tender skin. The hands of a young child, a little girl seeking comfort.

"Izumi-chan?"

My hands loosen.

"I'm ready for school, tou-san," I repeat again, and this time the words are meant to reassure my father as much as they are to reaffirm to myself that _yes_ I know what I'm doing, _yes_ I'm going to be a ninja, _yes_ I am aware that there will be no turning back. I might only have the faintest understanding of what it means to be _shinobi_ in a world like this, but I will learn. I _have_ to.

_(I have to, don't I?)_

For a moment, the tall man looks at me silently, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes –before he crouches down to my height, arranging his features into a soft smile.

"There's no need to be so nervous, Izumi-chan," he says gently. "Remember what your mother said? It's alright if you're not another Uchiha Itachi; you're _Izumi,_ so don't _ever_ feel like you have to force yourself to be anything more than who you are. You're a clever girl, Izumi-chan, so don't be scared of anything. Chin up, head straight, eyes forward –yes, just like that. That's my brave little girl. Just do your best, and everything will be perfectly fine. You're a lot stronger than you think you are, Izumi-chan."

It's sweet that he's concerned for his daughter, I think. It's sweet, even though he's totally concerned about the wrong thing.

"Also…" There is a slight hesitation in his voice, before the waver disappears and Ichiru looks at me firmly. "Izumi-chan, if you _ever_ feel like anything is getting to be a bit too much for you to handle in the Academy, don't feel like you have to hide it and keep it all to yourself, alright? No matter what happens, your mother and I will always be here for you."

… It's very sweet.

"I'll be fine, tou-san!" I laugh brightly, but it's a laughter that comes out with a faint brush of something light and shaky, that rings with something a little empty instead of being entirely cheerful and genuine. Knowing my father and the well-trained ninja that he is, there's no way that he fails to catch this, but with any luck, he'll continue to write it off as his precocious little daughter being nervous for her first day of school. _Oh, if only you knew, tou-san…_ "I'm going to be a ninja just like you and kaa-san, so I'll definitely work hard!"

The man smiles again, a strange little twist to his lips. "… That's exactly what I'm afraid of."

_Huh?_

I blink in confusion, momentarily caught wrong footed by the stray comment that seems to come out of nowhere from him. But my father says nothing more on the subject, only sighing softly as he reaches out and affectionately ruffles my hair. The gesture lasts only for a brief moment, before he stands up and straightens to his full height again.

"Come along now, Izumi-chan. Your kaa-san is a little late coming back from her mission this time, so she won't be here for your first day, but that's no reason to be late, is it? A good shinobi should always be on time."

"Um, okay?" The childish squeal that spills out from my throat when a mischievous glint suddenly enters the man's eyes and he swoops down, effortlessly swinging me up to sit on his shoulders, is something entirely instinctive, wholly unfaked. _"Tou-san!"_

"Smile, Izumi-chan!" he teases, and though I cannot see his face from my position up here, he must be smiling. I can _hear_ the smile in his voice. "You should be a lot more excited for your first day! My dear little _Izumi-chwaan,_ going to the Academy already! Sweet little Izumi-chan is _all grown up–"_

"You're so _embarrassing,_ tou-san!" Sometimes, it's still hard for me to grasp the way my father switches gears so quickly, from quiet and understanding to outspoken and… klutzy. Nearly gave me whiplash in the beginning, it did, but in this moment I can feel nothing but a warm rush of _fondness_ for the man.

… Although, the warmth in my cheeks as he openly strides down the streets, _wailing_ like this, is definitely from something else. Definitely, _definitely_ from something else entirely.

For heaven's sakes, people are _staring!_

_"Tou-san!"_ My cheeks flush even harder when I hear my own words from my mouth –what I had originally intended to come out as sharp and pointed the same way my mother says her words when she's finally fed up with my father's antics instead turns out to be a high-pitched, plaintive _whine,_ which… has just about the opposite effect, really, if the low rumble of good-natured laughter from my father is any indication of things.

I pout.

"Mou, tou-san, _stop!"_

"Never!" the brown-haired man declares loudly, adjusting his grip on my bony ankles. "What will I do without my precious Izumi-chan?"

_"Act like a mature, responsible adult for once in his life, maybe?"_

Both of us jump at the sudden interjection –me, not so much, given how I'm currently perched upon my father's broad shoulders and all, but Ichiru himself _jumps_ nearly a good foot into the air at the sound of the sandpaper-dry voice behind us, a drawling tone that could probably put Suna's deserts to shame.

"Kaa-san!" My mouth opens before my mind has truly processed anything else, the delighted response of a little child upon seeing her mother. Something bright and cheery automatically bubbles up in my chest, a sensation that I could not stop even if I'd wanted to. "Kaa-san, you're here! … Tou-san said you wouldn't be able to make it today."

Underneath the sunlight, there is a faint hint of a brilliant blue to Hazuki's ebon-dark hair, and once more I am struck once more by how _beautiful_ my mother is, all glittering eyes and painted lips and pale-cloud skin. It's hard to say which of my parents I take after more at this point, given that my body is still so young and has yet to really grow into anything, but so far I'd have to say that my looks lean towards my father more than my mother. None of the elegant poise of Hazuki's lovely features is present in my own face whenever I look into the mirror, and my hair color is the same earthy black-brown as Ichiru's instead of Hazuki's velvet midnight-silk.

(Of course, if you ask any of my neighboring Uchiha relatives, they'd sniff in a very dignified manner and inform you that _of course_ the chin and cheekbones in little Izumi-chan are Hazuki through and through; why would you ever think otherwise?)

As much as I love my father, I _do_ admit that I sometimes kind of wish that I could've inherited my mother's genes for pretty hair, at the very least.

_So soft! So pretty!_

… Ahem.

Focus, focus, _focus!_ Stop getting sidetracked so easily, Izumi!

(Attention span of a child, and all that. Wish it wasn't so literal…)

"'Wouldn't be able to make it?'" my mother arches a fine eyebrow, somehow managing to make even such a simple expression seem like a graceful _art._ On the other hand, my father does something that feels like a funny little full-body twitch under her look. "My, my. I know my team's mission ran a little late this time, but I wouldn't miss my dear Izumi-chan's big day for anything!"

"Usually when people say 'big day' like that, they're referring to _graduation,"_ my father mutters under his breath. And promptly yelps, when my mother is standing right beside him between one heartbeat and the next with her foot firmly planted in his shin, and I suppose the only reason why he isn't comically hopping around in pain like he does at home is because he has his little four-almost-five year old daughter sitting on his shoulders at the moment.

"Not another word out of you, mister," Hazuki says sternly to him, though the light of laughter dancing in her eyes is enough to belay her true thoughts. "And for shame, teasing Izumi-chan like that! Don't think I missed your antics earlier! Are you _deliberately_ trying to make my daughter the laughingstock of her classmates? Really, we have a _standard_ to uphold."

"Please stop, kaa-san," I tug on her sleeve, trying to catch the lovely lady's attention. It's so _easy,_ to push aside the butterflies fluttering in my stomach and slip back into the day-to-day byplay of our little family. "If you and tou-san spend any longer fussing around here, I'm going to be _late!"_

"No worries, Izumi-chan," my mother easily reaches up and picks me off of my father's shoulders, an elegant movement that has her carrying me in the crook of her arm. "We won't be late, dear, I promise. I _do_ apologize for not being home this morning, though. There were… a few more complications than I originally anticipated."

_Complications._

A sudden chill runs down my spine, one that has absolutely nothing to do with the slight chill of the morning autumn air.

"Hm? Feeling a little cold, Izumi-chan?"

"… A little," I lie. The beautiful lady holding me in her arms gives a noncommittal hum, before taking off the cream-colored scarf wrapped around her neck and tucking it around my own. "Wait, wait, _kaa-san–"_

"Hush," my mother says stubbornly, and _wow_ okay, that look is _scary._ I promptly cease any and all protests, and obediently allow her to tie her scarf around me in a few quick, deft movements. "There, all done. Try not to get it too dirty while playing, alright?"

A cream-colored scarf, embroidered with the white-red fan that is the insignia of the Uchiha Clan. The fabric itself is light and soft, filled with the lingering warmth from my mother, but somehow it still feels so _heavy_ on the thin frames of my small shoulders.

"… Alright, kaa-san." I fiddle with the corners, tracing the edge of the white-red fan. "Thank you for the scarf."

Something in my mother's eyes soften, and she gently brushes her fingers across my cheek. _"Don't fret, Izumi-chan._ You'll be _fine._ Finer than fine, really. You're an Uchiha, so lift up your head and be proud of it! Our history with the village began back during the time of its founding; our Clan's service to Konoha is matched by few others. You don't need to hesitate or doubt yourself like this, Izumi-chan. The Will of Fire burns strongly in us, brighter than any others."

I smile. "Okay, kaa-san."

… It makes me _wonder_ a bit, the way my mother says these words so candidly, so matter-of-factly. Does she really mean all of what she says, or have these words simply been repeated to her by her own parents? Is there even a difference, believing these words of her own will or believing them because it's what she has been taught to believe in?

And perhaps, given the pride that the Uchiha Clan takes in its role in Konoha… well, _something_ had to have happened, to spur the clan into the coup, right? For a major clan that had been part of Konoha from the time of the hidden village's founding to turn upon the village like that…

…

… It's none of my concern. And for all that tensions between the clan and the village escalated greatly in the aftermath of the Kyuubi attack, well, for an entire _clan_ to go and plan a coup against the village… there's no way that it's only work of the simmering discontent and rage of a few years at work here, without anything else to build upon. There must be greater forces in play, gradually pushing and pushing and pushing until the breaking point is finally breached and…

And in the end, I'm just a girl, a little girl who wants to live. There's nothing I can do about any of this even if I _wanted_ to; it would be best not to blindly stick my head into this mess and get it promptly cut off for my troubles. I _like_ my head where it is right now, thank you very much, and I'd prefer for it to stay that way.

It's the very reason why I'm going to learn how to be a ninja, after all.

.

.

.

"My name is Takeda Hiro. That's Takeda-sensei to y'all. Welcome to the Academy. You kids are all here to learn how to be a ninja, so I'll cut short the pleasantries and tell you right here and now –there's a lot more to being a ninja than cool weapons and flashy techniques. You heard Hokage-sama's address earlier, didn't you? _The Will of Fire._ First and foremost, understand that the very moment you graduate the Academy and put on your forehead protectors, you will carry on the Will of Fire with you, just like every other of your fellow comrades in Konoha…"

_You're talking to a class of five year-old kids, sensei. How much of this do you think most of us are going to understand? … Or maybe, you're planning to say this stuff so many times that it won't even matter if we understand or not, because we'll thoroughly remember it so well that by the time we're old enough to truly understand, it's already carved into our memories, our identity?_

I eye the blue-haired chuunin sensei contemplatively, burrowing myself a little further into the cream-colored scarf my mother had given me on our way to the Academy this morning.

_Ninjas and mind games. Urgh._

At least the Yondaime's motivational speech to us had been a lot shorter and a lot more interesting than this. It probably helped that the man was the _Hokage_ of the village, and a hell of a lot more charismatic than the chuunin sensei currently rambling away at the stage of the lecture room.

Why in the world did I sign up for this again?

"… not realize it now, but I hope you will understand in the future. Now, pick up your pens and pencils. We're going to have a quick assessment to see how everyone is doing so far in terms of ability, and then we'll work on the lesson plan for the year from here."

Huh. I quirk an eyebrow. Tests already, on the first day of school, for a class of _five year old children?_

_… Yeah, it must be something in the water here,_ I decide, sighing softly and obediently reaching into my schoolbag for my pencil.

Keep my head down, do whatever the teacher tells me to, work hard and learn to how to be a ninja to the best of my ability. That was my game plan for the Academy, and I would stick to it as much as I could. Given that I was now an Academy student and didn't require someone to watch me all day at home, both of my parents now had more time to take missions and would be out of the house more often than not –kaa-san had specifically reminded me to stay over at Fuji-obaa-san's house after school whenever neither she nor tou-san were home, and Fuji-baa is a retired kunoichi, from what I know. Maybe I could ask the old lady for some pointers?

_Baby steps, Izumi. One thing at a time._

Right, right. Focus on the assessment test that rambly-chuunin sensei is passing out right now, scheme and make more plans for the future later.

"U-um, sorry, do you have an extra pencil? I was too excited for class this morning and forgot to bring mine!"

I blink.

The request comes from my table-mate, a dark-haired girl with a petal-soft voice and russet eyes. I had chosen a window seat around the middle section of the room, and a dark-haired girl had claimed the empty spot next to me –no clan markings, small stutter of nervousness, yellow sundress; I was putting my money on _civilian,_ though there was always the chance that she was a clan child. Unlikely, but it was possible. The young girl was sporting a mildly flushed expression on her face at the moment for forgetting something as obvious as bringing _school supplies_ on the first day of _school;_ how _embarrassing–_

That is, if she'd really forgotten to bring something to write with.

"Sure," is all I say in response, though. I'd been sitting by kaa-san when she packed my school bag for me last night; the meticulous woman had thrown no less than _five_ pencils into my pencil case, and a few pens for good measure, too. I offer my tablemate a polite smile after handing her an extra pencil. "Good luck on the te–"

_"Kaori,"_ the other girl blurts out with a smile that might've been charming, had her face not been as red as it is. "My name is Kaori. Thank you for the pencil!"

_… I was only going to say 'Good luck on the test,' not trail off at the end to subtly and awkwardly ask for your name. That's… that's very forward of you, Kaori-san._

Honestly.

If the girl was really a clan child, she probably would've already _at least_ given me a greeting of some sort when she first sat down, instead of 'discreetly' stealing nervous glances at me before dredging up a paper-thin excuse to strike up conversation. The Uchiha Clan symbol sewn onto my scarf wasn't exactly inconspicuous in the first place.

_Probably civilian,_ I think. Not in a dismissive or demeaning manner, but just… it certainly _fits_ the image of a high-strung young girl who's trying a little too hard to make friends.

The lack of surname to Kaori's self-introduction didn't necessarily mean _orphan;_ the girl looked a bit too well-dressed and well-fed for the part. So either she had forgotten to include her surname in her haste, or she had left it out on purpose so I would have to address her by first name in any future interactions with her –thus implying a degree of familiarity and goodwill. The implication of a friendship that I wasn't sure if I even wanted to give.

… In terms of probability, it was probably the former. The slight misstep of bumbling, blustering, shy little girl who only wanted to make friends. But I wasn't going to discount the chances of the latter option, given the blatant Uchiha Clan insignia on my scarf… and even though I haven't gone out of the Uchiha district often enough to really experience anything about the general attitude that the village currently holds towards the Uchiha, I can certainly imagine why a civilian student might want to make friends with someone from a ninja clan in the Academy.

Was she a child from a merchant family, perhaps? Five years old and already _networking,_ learning to build connections and make opportunities by herself. Ha, even the non-shinobi children in this world are scaryyyy.

… Or maybe I'm just overthinking everything again. Who knows? It certainly wouldn't be the first time.

In the end, though, I just settle for nodding at Kaori with a small, "You're welcome," in acknowledgment of her thanks before turning my attention to the test papers that rambly-chuunin sensei had passed out. Even though I wasn't at the Academy to fool around and _play games with five year old children,_ that didn't mean I had to go out of my way to antagonize any of them where a simple non-gesture would suffice.

Simply being _disinterested_ didn't mean that I needed to be _cruel_ as well. And it's so very easy for children to be cruel without even realizing it.

Kaori dithers for a moment, looking torn between speaking up again and turning to her test, but she eventually chooses the later, thankfully.

The test itself… wasn't too difficult. Pretty standard fare for five year old children, really. Probably.

I admit I'm probably not the best judge of such things, but there's really nothing much to the 'test.'

Addition, subtraction. A bonus sheet of a few multiplication and division problems. That was it for the math section, and afterwards came a section on reading and writing. Unlike math, Japanese was not something I'd had exposure to before in a life-that-would-no-longer-be, but learning the language was quite literally the first thing I'd put my efforts to in this world. Hazuki and Ichiru had been all too happy to encourage the curiosity and learning drive of their precocious little daughter.

… I was probably a pretty strange little baby, come to think about it.

Oops.

I am careful to wait until a few children have already turned in their assessment sheets to rambly-sensei's desk before hopping out of my seat to turn in my own work as well. Remember the game plan! _Head down, listen to the teacher, and work hard._ I have a feeling that I'd be able to skip a few years of the Academy like this, considering how I wasn't _really_ your average four-almost-five year old –and you can't _pay_ me enough to sit down and play around with five year old children for an entire _year–_ but I didn't exactly want to overplay my hand, either. There was a certain sort of safety in being overlooked, of being labeled as 'special but not _that_ special,' and I was banking on that to learn as much as I can without having too much attention focused on me. By finishing the test early but not as one of the _earliest,_ I'm fairly sure that this should set me somewhere in the 'intelligent but not _overly_ intelligent' category.

The middle-aged man barely looks up to note my presence in front of him when I reach his desk, only muttering something along the lines of 'good work, take a seat and wait until the others are done,' and so I put down my papers and return to my seat again, settling in for a long wait while the rest of my classmates finish.

_… Boring._

Well, it's only the first day. No need to pass judgment so soon, not within the first hour of class. A class meant for _five year old children,_ might I remind myself. Hopefully I wouldn't remain in this class for too long, with any luck. That _is_ what this assessment is for, right? To gauge the current level of the students and make sure everyone is where they belong skill-wise, aside from creating a 'lesson plan?'

_Just trust that rambly-sensei knows what he's doing, Izumi. He's an instructor for a reason. They can't keep you here if it's obvious that you're way too advanced for this group, but just be careful to not make yourself seem like too much of a little genius._

_You're not Itachi. You're just Izumi._

I glance around the room. A good majority of the class is still working on the test, and I let out a small mental sigh. Next time there's a test, I'm going to bring a _book_ with me. This is going to be a long wait.

…

As expected, it takes awhile before more children start finishing, some triumphant from working out a particularly tricky problem, others with petulant pouts on their faces from not understanding a certain question. There was even someone who had fallen asleep during the test, and had to be prodded awake by their tablemate to even turn in his test to rambly-sensei –sensei hadn't seemed too amused by that, but neither had he said anything about it, only giving the kid a vaguely aggrieved, longsuffering look. The kind of look that clearly said something along the lines of, _I can already see the trouble you're going to cause me in this class, young man, and I sure as hell am not looking forward to dealing with your crap._

Kid was probably a Nara.

My lips curve into a small smile at the thought.

"Ten more minutes before I start going around collecting papers from those who haven't finished yet!" At this announcement, the _scratch-scratch_ sound of pencil against paper redoubles in the room. "We'll take a short break afterwards before we move onto the physical assessments outside."

"Yes, sensei!"

Ah, physical assessments. I perk up a little at the prospect of that, as do a good number of other children in the room, if the sudden number of raised heads and wide eyes counts for anything. _Exercise! Running around under the sun!_ … Should be much more interesting than a paper test meant for five year olds, at any rate.

_Hurry up and finish, please!_

The next ten minutes might as well be an _eternity;_ by the time everyone finally, _finally_ finishes, I am so grateful that I could _cry._

(… Okay, okay, that's just me being dramatic. But the _sentiment_ is there, and the sentiment is what matters!)

"How did you do on Takeda-sensei's test?" my overly-friendly tablemate attempts to strike up conversation during the brief break that rambly-sensei has allotted us before we're herded outside for a physical test. "You were already done by the time I finished! That's really im-press-ive! I was stuck for _forever_ on the eighth problem on the math page!"

_I'm pretty sure I got every question right. Kid, I've gone through college before. Basic arithmetic has nothing on calculus and differential equations. If I can't even finish a test like this, I might as well go jump in a lake and save us all the embarrassment._

"Ah, well enough, I believe," I smile politely. "Thank you for the compliment. I am sure that you performed admirably as well."

"W-well, I–"

_"Alright, break's over! Time to head out!"_

Thank you for saving me from an awkward conversation, rambly-sensei! Thank you!

The physical test… is much more entertaining than the written test, to be sure. It's kind of weird, this feeling of realizing that you've been trained for some things since the moment you could walk without ever being aware of it. The spontaneous games of tag we played on the open streets of the Uchiha district were much more challenging than running circles around a dirt track, and the only reason why my first two projectiles failed to hit the center of the target circle was because I was used to the weight of _actual metal knives_ and not… whatever these rubbery substitutes were made of.

Sneaky, sneaky ninja parents.

The gap between civilian and shinobi children becomes obvious in the physical testing portion of the introductory assessment. Whereas one half of the class was only sweating slightly, flush-faced and panting lightly, the other half of the class looked to be just about dead on their feet after the set of long-distance runs and short sprints, my chatty tablemate Kaori included. When rambly-sensei mercilessly got us started on another round of muscle-building conditioning exercises, several of the civilian children looked ready to _cry._

"Toughen up, kids! If you can't even handle this much, maybe you should rethink the choice of becoming a ninja!"

… It's unfair. For kids with shinobi parents who've deliberately been trained to follow in their parents' footsteps, _of course_ they would have an advantage over the kids who've never done any training before in their life. But… but young children are malleable; they grow and learn quickly, so any apparent gaps in skill can be easily overcome if they work hard and _apply_ themselves.

I suppose that this is as much a test of character as it is a test of a child's abilities. Without the will to persevere in face of adversity, without _determination,_ I can certainly imagine why a child might be considered unsuitable to the life of a ninja.

Ninja.

_… I'm really doing this, aren't I? I'm really going to be a ninja. A shinobi._

Idly, I spare a moment to wonder if I would come to regret this decision in the future. The chances of that happening seem depressingly high, but… it's still the best option. It's my best option at the moment, so any future regrets can be saved for the future while I myself worked on the present.

No choice in worrying about the nebulous future if I didn't even _have_ a future to worry about, after all.

At the end of class in the afternoon, it's not much of a surprise when rambly-sensei calls for me to stay behind a bit. On some level, I'd even been expecting it _–I'm not a genius shoe-in ninja like Hatake Kakashi or Uchiha Itachi, but I'm bright enough to be bumped up a few years in the Academy's schooling system, aren't I? I refuse to be left with actual five year old children for an entire year! I don't have time to be wasting away like that! And what if five year olds are contagious? Heavens knows I'm having enough trouble keeping a lid on my own five year old tendencies._

It's not much of a surprise that I'm called to stay behind. What _is_ a surprise, though, is what rambly-sensei proceeds to say to me:

"Full marks, Uchiha Izumi-chan," the man gestures for me to sit down at an empty desk in the front row of the empty classroom. "Top of your class in the physical test, and top of your class in the written test as well. You're an accomplished one, aren't you, Izumi-chan?"

… What?

_Top of your class?_

Excuse me? _Excuse me?_ I definitely was _not_ the first person to finish any of the physical activities outlined for us to do, nor was I the first one to finish the written test; I was only aiming for _high score_ and not _top score_ so why in the world–

"I'm a _teacher,_ Izumi-chan," rambly-sensei's lips quirk upwards at the undoubtedly dumbfounded expression on my face right now. "You might not have finished any of the physical exercises first, but unlike the rest of your classmates who are all going to be extremely sore and regretting all their life decisions tomorrow, you've barely even broken a sweat in class today, haven't you noticed? And also, the written test? First to finish, and _perfect score._ First to _actually_ finish, at any rate; you have no idea how many half-empty pages I get within the first half hour every single year."

… Crap.

Clearly, _clearly_ I'd miscalculated. Physical exercises, I might not have been able to do anything about, but the children who finished the written test first? It _wasn't_ because they knew what they were doing and had actually finished doing the test –those were the _actual children_ who had absolutely no patience to sit down and quietly work through the entirety of a paper test! And to think that I had specifically _waited_ until a few of my classmates had turned in their tests first before cheerfully heading up to hand in my own!

Damn. Led astray by five year old children, _damn._

Just… just, _damn._

_Why the hell didn't I think of that before waltzing up like an idiot?_

I smile nervously, not sure if I like where this conversation appears to be headed. Actually, scratch that, I'm _pretty damn sure_ I don't like where this is headed. This is _not_ the 'special but nothing too special' I'm aiming for!

"… Sensei?"

The man smiles reassuringly. His smile is not very reassuring.

"If you have time, I'd like to give you a few more tests so we can determine a proper placing for you," rambly-sensei says. "I must admit, I'm curious as to how you'll do. The last student any of us had high hopes for would be your cousin Uchiha Itachi-kun. I guess it runs in the family's blood, huh?"

_Shittttt._

My palms are cold.

"O-okay, sensei. I'll try." What else can I say?

Rambly-sensei _beams_ and promptly whips out a stack of papers out of nowhere. "Excellent! Here's the written portion; if we run out of time, we can do the physical portion tomorrow morning. Don't feel like you have to rush, though; take your time working through these! Let's see how your scores compare to your cousin's, eh?"

I warily eye the giant pile of papers, already feeling a cramp coming into my hand. "… By any chance, sensei, may I ask what score Itachi-san got on his test?"

It's… not everything is lost yet. There's still a chance. _There's still a chance._ I can still salvage this. If I can just figure out his score, then I'd have a solid benchmark for how well I should do if I just wanted to be seen as _good_ but not overly so–

"Now that would be telling, Izumi-chan!" the chuunin sensei laughs, and I have _never_ wanted to just reach over and _strangle_ someone as much as I did in that moment. "Don't fret! I don't want you to feel pressured by hearing anyone else's scores, so just do your best on this test and we'll go from there, okay?"

… Fuck.

_Fuck._

I've just gone and blown the first point on my game plan for the Academy _without even realizing it._

_What the hell am I supposed to do now?!_

.


End file.
